Harry Potter and the Prince of Darkness
by eyes of sky
Summary: ON HOLD due to HBP: After a summer of gloom at the Dursley's, Harry meets someone he least expects,and is whisked away on a journey of adventure, romance and the chance to meet the elusive Prince of Darkness.
1. Chapter 1 The Dursleys

Harry Potter and the Prince of Darkness

Chapter 1 – The Dursleys

I WILL NOT HAVE YOU LIVING IN MY HOUSE!" bellowed Vernon Dursley, his face swelling purple like a beetroot. Seeing Harry's look of defiance he took a deep breath and tried another tack. "You are endangering my family, my wife, my CHILD", he spluttered. "Surely even _you_ can understand that. If this Vollemard _is_ back then I don't want him coming here. Do you understand me?"

Despite himself, Harry had to hide a grin. Voldemort in Privet Drive?! What would the neighbours say to that. They would have a field day from behind their net curtains. _Did you see who visited the Dursleys the other day? I always said they were up to no good. And that nephew of theirs...no parents...heard they were weirdoes..._

Harry felt the happiness draining out of him as he once again saw Sirus' face, frozen in shock as he was falling, falling through that dark archway. With a shudder he pulled himself back to the present, to find himself standing in the hallway with Uncle Vernon still staring at him.

"Well, do you?"

With a certain degree of surprise, Harry realised that he still hadn't answered. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Uncle Vernon, let's be logical about this..."

Vernon Dursley drew himself up to his full height of 5 foot 6 with a snarl. LOGICAL?!!" he shouted. "The only _logic_ that I can see, _boy_, is that YOU can pack your bags and take yourself, your filthy _bird_ and all your disgusting _possessions_ and NEVER DARKEN MY DOORWAY AGAIN!"

Harry gave a sigh as he prepared for what looked to be a long 'discussion'. He supposed he should have seen this coming. With Aunt Petunia out of the way, shopping for more extravagant, extortionate and totally unnecessary presents for 'darling Dudders', it was only natural that Uncle Vernon would take this chance to try to get rid of Harry again. In fact, Harry was surprised it had taken this long.

Last year, when Voldemort had finally returned, Harry had thought that he would never be forced to live with the Dursleys again. For a brief moment of happiness he believed that he would be living with Sirius, his father's best friend and his godfather. But yet again he had been forced to return. And it was _all his_ _fault_. If he hadn't been so selfish and blind, if he had tried harder at Occulemency, if he had only listened to his friends. But that was all in the past now. And Sirius was dead.

Later that evening, Harry was sat in his room, brooding as the darkness gathered around him, as he had done so many nights of this endless summer. He knew he had to stay at the Dursley's for a while, he knew it kept him alive, but why was he still here now? It was his birthday tomorrow and he had only had a few sketchy letters from Ron and Hermione, with vague promises of meeting up. Why had no one come to take him away from this awful place and this endless boredom? He gave a deep sigh that seemed to come from his very soul. _It's because of what you did_ said a voice inside of him. _They blame you and now they don't want to know you_. "No!" said Harry aloud. "It's not true, it can't be, surely they...". _Then where are they?_

Harry looked up with a jolt, startled out of his reverie. He was shocked to see that the sky was now jet-black and studded with thousands of tiny pinpricks of stars. 'Surely I can't have been here for that long?' he thought. Bewildered, he checked his glowing watch. 12:00. The witching hour. Harry gave a smile as he thought of all the Muggles who believed the tales, but his smile died abruptly as a dark shadow swept across his vision. Diving behind his desk as he whipped out his wand, he could only watch in horror as a long sinuous shape slipped in through the open window accompanied by a gliding figure of darkness. The shadows halted and Harry froze to the spot, his wand hanging limply from his hand in horror, as they began to transform.


	2. Chapter 2 Unexpected Visitors

Chapter 2 – Unexpected Visitors 

Harry could only watch as the cat stepped out of the shadows, and with a flick of its tail, turned into the person Harry had least expected to see.

"P-Professor McGonagall?" Harry stuttered in amazement. "Um, what are you doing here?". The tall, grey-haired woman, dressed in a tartan cloak, gave a thin smile. "You will find, Mr. Potter, that I have come here in order to take you away. I'm sure you will be glad to hear that this will be the last time you will have to visit the Dursleys," said the Professor, surveying Harry's room. "Hmm, it could do with a little tidy but I suppose there isn't time" she said with a sigh of regret. After a moment she realised that Harry had not answered, and turned back to find him still gaping at her with shock.

"Now really Harry, I may not look my best after travelling across half of Britain, but surely I'm not _that_ shocking" she said with an unknown twinkle in her eye.

Harry started, and realised he had been staring at Professor McGonagall. His cheeks took on a pink tinge as he muttered, embarrassed, "sorry Professor, I just...it's just - I didn't expect – "

"-to see me? I expect not. Well, here I am, don't you think you'd better pack?" she said, casting a critical eye over the room, which was far from pristine.

"Oh, uh, OK then Professor", Harry said as he began to dart around the room, gathering up objects lying randomly scattered around the floor. Before he could reach his wardrobe, the doors swung apart and his trunk sprang open with a soft _click_. Professor McGonagall gave a swift flick of her wand and all his possessions soared into the deep brown trunk and landed, neatly folded. Harry gave a smile, remembering a very similar scene last year. "I think it's safe to say that you rival Tonks' efforts at packing, Professor" he laughed. Professor McGonagall's face softened into a smile of remembrance. "Yes, Nymphadora never was one for neatness. Attempting to read her essays would have taxed the patience of a house elf! And believe me, they are the most patient creatures on this earth!" Harry thought of Hermione and S.P.E.W and felt an ache of longing to see his two best friends again after so long. Professor McGonagall must have noticed his expression for suddenly she became businesslike as usual.

"Right, Mr. Potter, where are your broom and your spellbooks?" Suddenly Harry's stomach dropped. "I-in the cupboard under the stairs" he almost whispered. The Dursleys might want him out of the house but he was sure they would create problems. Anything that would make Harry happy was totally out of the question for them. Harry sighed. _Why do they have to treat me like poison? Why is everything always my fault?_

McGonagall gave him a knowing look. _It's a shame_, she thought, _if only he could have lived with Sirius. But it was not to be_.

"In fact the Dursleys have gone out, Harry" she said kindly. "They've gone to the Annual Grunning's Ball, so they won't be bothering us."

Harry was startled. Of course! The Annual Ball for Uncle Vernon's drill company. The Dursleys had been talking about nothing else for weeks. Aunt Petunia had been particularly fixated about what 'that tart next door would be wearing'. Funny how her disapproval of 'that sort of thing' didn't extend to the holiday romance books she read avidly, with a seemingly insatiable appetite for reading about clandestine love affairs. Harry often wondered how, instead of a dark eyed Italian, Aunt Petunia had ended up with short, beefy, sweaty, short-tempered Uncle Vernon. Perhaps it was their love of complaining. Yes, surmised Harry, that was probably it.

By the time Harry had come to this conclusion, Professor McGonagall had reappeared with his broom and spellbooks. "I'll just give them this letter, like _so_, then we're ready to be off," she said as she placed a small white envelope on his desk, addressed in neat green writing to _Mr and Mrs Dursley_. Suddenly, Harry realised he didn't even know where they were going. If Professor McGonagall had come to collect him, it couldn't be the Burrow. Surely the Weasleys would have come? And why would she come to take him to 12 Grimmauld Place. Last time it was Lupin and Tonks who came. As if she had read his mind, the Professor explained, "I'm afraid that at the moment the Weasleys are busy, and I was the only one available to collect you. However, this year you will be going somewhere new. Oh, don't worry" she said, seeing Harry's look of uncertainty, "your friends will be there, it's just that we've decided on somewhere a little different this summer". She smiled enigmatically and, leaving Harry to puzzle out what she meant, she withdrew an empty _Quavers_ packet from the folds of her robes. "Professor Dumbledore has kindly provided a Portkey to transport us, so if you would just hold on please..." Harry stretched out a finger, and as his fingertip made contact with the cold foil, he felt the familiar sensation of the hook jerking behind his navel, and he was rushing into the unknown beside the Professor amid a swirl of colours and rushing wind.


	3. Chapter 3 Location, location

Chapter 3 – Location, location

_HorseyGurl1490 : _

_Thanks for your interest! Maybe your hunch is correct...but then maybe not! Hope you're enjoying the story, if not, you know what to do! _

Almost as soon as Harry could wonder where he could be hurtling towards, his feet hit the ground with a jolt and he stumbled forwards, throwing his hands out to break his fall. His palms struck hard earth as the rest of his luggage landed with painful crashes on top of him. 'Not the most dignified landing' he thought, his nose inches from the floor. 'But where on earth are we?'

With a heave, he pushed away his school trunk and stood upright, craning his neck to look around. They were standing in a grassy hollow with smoothly curving sides reaching up to the sky. The sun was just rising and the sky was streaked with pink and deep orange. The grass was lush and long, and dotted with late summer flowers. It seemed like a typical picturesque valley in the country. But Harry knew there was something more to this hollow. He could feel the expectancy in the still air and suddenly he noticed it was oddly silent. Harry turned to ask Professor McGonagall what was going on, but his question froze on his lips as he stopped in shock. She wasn't there!

Heart racing in panic, Harry span around, searching for the Professor. He was sure she had been there when they landed. Or had she never come? Had she intended all along to dump him here alone? Was it all some trick to get rid of the famous Harry Potter? Taking a deep breath, he calmed his heart rate and repeated his mantra 'I am calm, I am remote, I can never be harmed'. He had not been practising Occulemency for nothing. Living for six weeks alone with the Dursleys and his racing thoughts had hardly been calming. Occulemency was the only thing keeping him from running.

Bringing himself back to the present, Harry took out his wand, and after a quick glance at his belongings, began to climb the sides of the hollow. Before he had gone two steps, he was recalled by a loud and indignant squawk. "Hedwig!" Harry ran back to the pile of his luggage and released the loudly protesting snowy owl from her cage. "I'm really sorry, I just totally forgot. I wonder what this place is?" he mused as she flew to his shoulder and affectionately nibbled his ear. "Wait..." An idea dawned on Harry. He could use Hedwig to contact his friends and follow her on his broom. Anything had to be better than staying here in this silent valley, with a tingle of suppressed magic in the air. It was making Harry very uncomfortable. If this was a trap, he had no chance. One wand against who knows how many Death Eaters? He'd been lucky before, but he didn't want to push that luck. He just wanted to get out of here. And if he couldn't use magic? It was the only way

Diving into his trunk he grabbed a spare piece of parchment and a quill, scribbled _Ron_, and gave the note to Hedwig. As he clambered onto his broom and picked up his luggage, Hedwig took flight in a flurry of wings. Harry kicked off the ground and immediately forgot his worries in the simple joy of flying. As the cold breeze lifted his hair and he effortlessly soared, even the heavy luggage dragging his hands down couldn't dampen his spirits. He was safe up here. As a thousand thoughts ran through his head he brushed them aside and focused on the white owl flying before him. Suddenly, she stopped as if indecisive. Harry was confused. Hedwig had never failed to deliver a note before. Even when the recipient didn't want to be found.

At that split second, she turned swiftly and began to fly back at him. In a moment she was past him and Harry was hot on her heels in bewilderment. Where was she going? And as Harry recognised the small green hollow he had only just left, she swooped down. Then, in an instant she seemed to fly into the side of the hollow, and was gone.

"Hedwig!" Harry shouted. This day was turning out to be the most alarming and confusing since the Department of Mysteries. He landed on the soft grass and ran towards the spot where his owl had disappeared. There was nothing but smooth grass on the slope. He leaned forward to look closer, only to find he had stubbed his toe and a ragged piece of broken wood. Harry bent down in annoyance to throw it away, but his eye was caught by the inscription on it.

"_Godric's Hollow"_ he read in amazement as he found himself standing in front of a long green door with a silver lion knocker. And he stared at that same green door as it slowly creaked open...

_A/n: Cliffie or what?! You'll just have to read on _:) :)

_Please read and review, I welcome all honest comments! (hopefully helpful!)!_


	4. Chapter 4 Godric's Hollow

Chapter 4 – Godric's Hollow

_A/N: Oops, just realised I forgot my disclaimer. Shame. Oh well, its here now:_

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything apart from the plot. 'Really?' I hear you cry. 'Now what a surprise!'_

Sorry for my weird sense of humour! On with the story...

* * *

_"Godric's Hollow" he read in amazement as he found himself standing in front of a long green door with a silver lion knocker. And he stared at that same green door as it slowly creaked open..._

Harry stood rooted to the spot in shock. He had heard that name before. His parents' house? Before he could reach for his wand a shape hurtled out of the door, and as it knocked him to the ground he gave a cry of pain, surprise and stunned recognition.

"Hermione?! It's great to see you. I didn't know where I was going or whom I was going to meet! And...and – Sirius?" he gasped, seeing the tall, dark haired man standing behind her with an amused grin on his long face. But as Hermione released him from a bone-crushing hug and her bushy hair cleared his face, he saw with a stab of disappointment that it was not, and would never be his godfather standing there.

"The grin vanished abruptly from the stranger's face. "Hi, Harry", he began tentatively, but seeing the distraught look on Harry's face he changed tack. "I'm sorry I'm not the person you wanted to see, and I understand why. I'm Sirius' brother, Lupus. The wolf star," he said wryly. He paused, and gave a sigh. "No-one's ever heard of it. Sirius was always the more popular one", he said, with a gentle smile on his face as his eyes filled with remembrance.

Hermione watched as the tall, dark-haired man extended his hand to the slim teenager staring at him with barely veiled suspicion. "I'm honoured to meet you", said Lupus. Finally, Harry found his voice. "Sirius never mentioned a brother called _Lupus_" he spat, surprising himself with the ferocity of his outburst. "His family never helped. They never deserved him. Where were you when he needed you?" Forgotten memories and images of Grimmauld Place flooded back to Harry. "You aren't even on the family tree tapestry." Harry continued quietly, "not even burned off".

Lupus' eyes darkened with pain and regret. _You should have expected this_, he cursed himself. _You just come waltzing in here and expect it all to be fine. If you can't even forgive yourself, how do you ever expect him to understand, even less to forgive._

He looked down at his still-extended hand and retracted it with a grimace. Harry's sharp green eyes studied him intently as he opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. As he prepared to speak, Harry began to understand why he had mistaken him for Sirius. The two brothers must have looked very alike. _Must LOOK very alike_, he corrected himself inwardly. _Sirius is NOT dead._ 'Yeah right' a voice inside him said snidely.

"He never knew me" Lupus muttered at last. Harry jerked from his study of the man. "Well that explains it" said Harry sarcastically. "You don't just go round having endless mystery brothers. You don't even _know _you have them."

He turned from Lupus in disgust, he suddenly became aware of the other people who had been standing by the open door, tentatively watching the exchange. "Ron! Fred! George!" he said with delight. "Mrs Weasley, I'm so glad to see you here. And Mr Weasley!" Finally, here was something in his summer that could go right. As soon as he called her name, Mrs Weasley bustled over and immediately started chivvying him into the house. "Well don't just stand there. I'm sure you're hungry, you look famished. Of course you won't have had breakfast. I don't know _what _they feed you at that house", she said as she sat him down in a tall wooden chair and began to place mounds of food on his plate. "I hope you don't mind, but we came this morning so we could tidy the place up and get it ready for you to come."

"I didn't even know I was coming...here" said Harry thickly, through three slices of toast. He felt a slice of pain in his stomach that was nothing to do with his ravenous hunger. This was where his _parents_ had lived, this was where he had lived when they were all so happy, yet he didn't remember any of it. All he remembered was his mother's voice. Harry shook his head to clear the sound of his mother's voice pleading for his life. That was all in the past. He couldn't let it ruin his life now.

As he devoured yet another mound of thickly buttered toast, he began to study his surroundings. He had a feeling he would remember this house very well.

A/N: Please let me know what you think. Sorry for the short chapters, but school's a little crazy at the moment...

Eyes of sky 


	5. Chapter 5 Discovery and Remembrance

Chapter 5 – Discovery and remembrance

_Disclaimer: I don't own it, neither do you, its all just JKR…_

_Previously…_

_As he devoured yet another mound of thickly buttered toast, he began to study his surroundings. He had a feeling he would remember this house very well._

As he chewed, his mind drifted back to the only memories he had of his parents. He chuckled softly, mirthlessly to himself. The only memories he had were flashes of green light and the voice of his dying mother. Possibly _not_ the ones Professor Trelawney was thinking about when she gushed about "childhood memories" and their "effect on the motion of the fragile student psyche". Whatever _that _was supposed to mean. With a grin through the toast wedged firmly in his mouth, Harry decided that perhaps they were after all. Professor Trelawney seemed to have a decidedly unhealthy obsession with death, particularly _his_. She positively revelled in his impending demise, and the more painful and ridiculous it was, the more excited she became. Suddenly, a dull thud came from the ceiling above, followed by what sounded suspiciously like a curse from…

"_RONALD!" _came the piercing shriek, echoing through the house. " I will _not _have you using such _foul _language in this house. I can tell you this, young man; Charlie would have never used that kind of language, nor would Bill. I will not have you going down the same route as Fred and George…."

Harry could picture Mrs Weasley clearly in his mind; arms folded and legs akimbo, her temper as fiercely blazing as her shock of red hair. She was a force to be reckoned with, and it was no surprise that even Bill and Charlie, the eldest members of the family, were terrified of her fury! He wondered where Ron and Hermione had disappeared off to. 'Probably trying to get rid of me as soon as possible', he thought, with a sudden savage burst of fury. 'After all, that's what they've been doing all summer'. With a sigh of reluctant acceptance, he decided that he might as well get used to it.

Absentmindedly reaching out a hand for the next piece of toast, Harry was surprised to find that there was nothing left but a small pile of crumbs and a small puddle of butter on the once-heaving plate. "Impressive", he thought as he levered himself up from the stout wooden chair, feeling distinctly full. "I haven't eat that much all summer. Not surprising, really. What with the continuation of Dudley's diet combined with the reluctance of the Dursleys to give him anything more than a lettuce leaf, food hadn't really been in plentiful supply.

Now the dull ache of hunger in his stomach had been dissipated, Harry's attention fixed back onto his surroundings. The table he had been sitting at was fairly long and was made of a dark, stout wood. Dotted along the surface at random intervals were evidence of a long and well-loved use – the odd circular stain where someone had left a steaming mug too long, a splash mark of a hot stew, scratches from over eager diners. As Harry trailed his hands along the surface, he found that it was not as smooth as he had first thought. In fact, it was criss-crossed by ridges and valleys, lumps and bumps, all memories of a lifetime of use. Out of his imagination, he could suddenly picture the same faces that had waved out at him from the Mirror of Erised. People sitting around the table, debating, chatting, fighting, eating and _living._ And now it was all gone. Harry pulled out a chair at the other end of the table with a low rumble across the newly-polished tiles, and sank into it, staring down the long length of table to the open door. At the corner of the table, among the scratches, were engraved two, bold letters. _S. B._

First his parents had died, and now the closest thing he had to a parent. His fingers traced the letters engraved in the table. _Sirius Black._

As Harry began to sink back into the depressed musings that had characterised his long and lonely summer, he was brought back to the present by a shuffle of feet and a light tap on the door. He looked up quickly. Standing framed in the doorway, against the bright sunshine, was the person he least wanted to see.

_Ok, I know that was a PATHETICALLY long gap, but I meant to post this ages ago and then forgot about it! Please accept my humble apologies : ) _

_Let me know what you think,_

_x eyes of sky x_


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